
Fiso 



PRBSlNTiO SY THE HilSflBBRS @¥ T»B SySiMER SlS®l9N 






The Book by Professor William S. Dye, Jr., Ph. D. 
AND Professor John H. Frizzell, A. M. 

The Prologues by President Edwin E. Sparks, L. L. D. 
AND Professor William Day Crokett, A. M. 

Master of the Pageant, Mary Wood Hinman 



Copviieht 1915 by W. S. Dye, Jr. and J. H. Frizzell 






AUG -5 1,915 



-1^ , THE PROLOGUE 

^ . BY 

iO President Edwin Erle Sparks 

CHARACTERS 

Columbia ^ Mrs. Frank D. Gardner 

Penn Mr. William Day Crockett 

Indian Dancers .' Camp Fire Girls 

Chairman, Mrs. E. R. Smith 

Dance trained by Mrs. Florence Deming 

Agnes Swarnf Ruth Winter Gladys Alexander Helen Bowersox 
Dorothy Crane Grace Winter Mary Emboden Marion Harter 

(Tall woman zvitti clear voice dressed as Columbia, bearing 
shield of shape of keystone and a zvand.) 

Kind friends, thrice welcome all who come 
To view our annual pageant here. 
Last year you saw the Seasons pass 
From Vernal Spring to Winter's cold. 
This year we turn from Fancy's dream 
To Hist'ry's fact. We here present 
In quick review our Keystone State 
And show the varied racial stream 
Which swept across the sea's expanse 
To people Pennsylvania's soil. 
Adventurous spirtis all were thev. 
Enduring hardship, toil and want, 
Intent to found a Commonwealth 
Where freedom's blessings might be gained. 
Yet here was freedom e'er the white 
Man came. Red children roamed at will 
Amidst these woods and vales or danced 
About symbolic fires. So I, 
The spirit of the state, first show 
The Indian maidens of the long ago. 

(Dance of Camp Fire Girls — from the village.) 

(An Indian maiden advances to the dancers and addresses them.) 

3 



My children, listen to my prophecy ! 

Your hours draw to a close. Soon will come 

An alien race of white men o'er the sea 

In myriad numbers. They shall fell your trees, 

Destroy your game and harry you to death. 

Your wigwams palaces become ; your trails 

With steel relaid; your bark canoes give way 

To steam's power. 'Tis nature's law — 

The fittest must survive. Depart ! Begone ! 

(Indian maidens vanish to sides. Spirit of Pennsylvania resumes.) 

Alas, 'tis true. These simple folk 
Must vanish. Here the white man comes : 
First William Penn, intent to found 
A refuge from oppression's sway. 



r;Cl.D 41515 

4 ^ ^ 



Chairman, Mrs. A. J. Wood 
THE SWEDES IN PENNSYLVAxNIA 

BY 

Professor William S. Dye, Jr. 

CHARACTERS 

First man Mr. Wyant 

Second man Mr. Cole 

First woman Miss Schooley 

Second woman Miss McCreary 

Boy Sidney Grieb 

Messenger Miss Dickinson 

Penn Mr. Crockett 

Columbia Mrs. Gardner 

Dancers 

Gotland. . .Miss Pattee, Miss Pancoast, Miss Starrett, Miss Dix, 
Mr. Sligh. Mr. Wyant, Mr. Deering, Mr. Barnhart. 

Ox Mr. Sligh, Mr. Barnhart. Mr. Wyant and Mr. Gress. 

Vingaker. .Miss Dix, Miss McMenamin, Mr. Gress. 

Little Man in a Fix 

Miss Dix, Miss Pattee, Miss McMenamin, Miss Pan- 
coast, Miss Yardley, Mr. Gress, Mr. Sligh, Mr. Wyant, 
Mr. Barnhart, Mr. Hall. 
The season is that of the harvest on the highlands near the 
Delaware at Upland (Chester). A harvest dance is in progress. 
Girls and men and are merrymaking on the green. At the conclu- 
sion of the dance, the following dialogue takes place: 

1. Swede. Nay, do not cease dancing. It will lighten our hearts for 
the work that is still to do. Maids and matrons have danced afore 
this while the men have worked. 

A woman. When, pray tell us? 

1. Swede. Most of you do not remember the time we built the ship 
to fight the Dutch, the ship that caught at yonder bridge and 
burned there. 

A woman. Still harking at old times. He is ever thus. 

1. Swede. Under three monarchs have I lived since first I came to 
this new land. Three flags have I seen floated from yonder staff, 
and thrice has the coat of arms on that staff been changed. 

2. Swede. 'Tis a goodly land, good father. Here grows the vine ; 
here flourishes the corn ; and here in contentment may we sow and 
husband our crops. 

3. Swede. Peace, too, for a score of years has been our portion. 
Under England's beneficient rule, no danger has beset us, save that 

5 



now and then, some wandering redskin, driven to desperation by 
a fancied wrong, has donned war paint and with bow in hand has 
forgot the ancient peace between his tribesmen and us. 

1. Swede. Of late, however, this has been rare. The new settlers who 

so recently came, the sober men, the demure women whose garb is 
plain, whose manner of life and speech is so soft and musical, have 
so befriended the neighboring tribes that no longer are the old 
grudges against our race remembered. 

". Swede. A pleasant people indeed are these men and women who, 
in derision, have been called Quakers. 'Twas but a day or two past 
that, as I hunted toward the^north, I met one of them, neighbor. 
He told me wonderful news of the governor who is daily expected. 

All. A new governor. 

A woman. Tell us. Tell us. 

3. Swede. Gather ye around and I shall recount to you the tidings. 
Not more than ten years ago, I am told, the Admiral of England's 
Fleet, the great John Penn, died and was gathered to his fathers. 
His son, a noble, straight and worthy youth, coming under strange, 
dissenting influence, turned his back on the established Church of 
England, and for his faith, suffered greatly. 

2. Swede. Methought that England, great and wise, would never 
dream of forcing on one a belief distasteful to him. 

1. Swede. 'Twill take years for such a thing to come. 

0. Swede. Perhaps! To return to the story : The King, it appears, 
was indebted to the Admiral, and in payment, the son took a grant 
of land in this new country. Penn's Woods he called it, and — 

Enter a messenger hurriedly. 

Mess. A ship in full sail has just come up the river. 

2. Swede. Who is she? Whither bound ? 

Mess. No sooner did her captain round the bend of the river and see 
our little village than up he brought her into the wind, and as the 
white sails fluttered in the sunlight over splashed the anchor. 

Crowd. Yes. Yes. 

Mess. No sooner had she lost headway than a boatload appeared over 
her side. 

1. Swede. To arms! The Dutch! The Dutch! 

Mess. No. No. Alarm yourselves not, my neighbors. 'Twas 
William Penn, the new governor, come to take his place in the new 
colony. Hearing that you were gathered for the harvest festival, 
he said he would come himself to greet you. I ran all the way from 
the landing to warn you. I fear they will soon be here. (Looks 
off.) See where they come through the parting trees. 

Enter Penn and sailors. 



Penn. Friends, for so ye be, to thee and thine I come as owner of this 
new land. Let no man think I wish to change in any degree his 
mode of life so long as he honors God and respects his neighbor. 

1 . Swede. My neighbors and I, your Excellency — 

Penn (interrupting). Nay, my friend, to thee I am William; none is 
excellent but God. 

1. Swede. Friend William (Penn nods approvingly), we have but 
just learned of your grant. Patient tillers of the soil are we. We 
live in peace, and desire nothing better. 

Penn. I come to found a city of brotherly love, built on the broad 
foundations of freedom and tolerance. Wherever my land extends 
every man may worship as it seems good to him. 

(Murmurs of approval.) 

Penn. Oft have I watched, in my old home over the sea, friends 
snatched from friends, men and women, too, thrown into dungeons 
dark, because they dared believe otherwise than the king. One 
day I caught a glimspe of a time when men's consciences should be 
their guides. I looked over the wide trackless billows and beheld 
Freedom (Freedom appears at the hack) crowned in glory. Look, 
my friends with me (they look to the back of the stage), and pray 
(they fall on their knees) that never from this new home we have 
carved from these forests, shall the splendor and the blessings and 
peace of liberty depart. 
(They rise to their feet as the form of Freedom disappears.) 

1. Swede. Brother and governor, the hour we have prayed for has 
come. We left our homes years ago hoping for this day. We will 
hold up thy hands so that liberty may never depart from our midst. 

All. Ay ! Ay ! Long live Governor Penn ! 

Penn. Friends, neighbors, I must haste to Shakamaxon where I am 
daily expected. Remember, in the new government all law abiding 
citizens shall have a voice. Farewell. (He departs zvith sailors.) 

3. Swede. This has indeed been a happy day. Come neighbors, let 
us bring it to a fitting close. 

They dance and after the dance the stage is cleared. 



Chairman, Mrs. Webner. 
THE ENGLISH AND THE QUAKERS IN PENNSYLVANIA 

BY 

Professor William S. Dve, Jr. 

CHARACTERS 

fohn Mr. Gerheart 

William Mr. Smith 

Doris Miss Munyon 

Margery Miss Shell 

First Quaker Mr. Weeks 

Second Quaker Mr. Gorhani 

Fiddler Mr. O'Brien 

Dancers 
Sellencer's Round 

Misses Smith, Lyons, Moul, Kelley, Mouer, Markell, Gass, 
Sparrow, Noble, Paul, Mackey, Homer, Faloney, Davis, 
Mouer, Hoover, Cooley, Critchlow, Miller, Vardly, Boylson, 
Stage, Vaughn, Houston 

Messrs. Hall, Deering, Sharkey, Keyser, Blackman, Foultz, 

Hardy, Titterington, Griffiths, VVyant, Lewis, Neal, Somers, 

Barnhart, Gress, Wilde, Sligh 

Goddesses. .Mr. Blackman, Mr. Foultz, Mr. Keyser, Mr. Hardy, 

Miss Roberts, Miss Roberts, Miss Seeds, Miss Nearhoof 

Confess Mr. Hall. Mr. Wilde, Miss Starrett, Miss Foss, Miss 

Hamler, Miss Himes 
Hunston House. .Mr. Wilde, Mr. Deering, Mr. Sligh, Mr. Hall, 

Miss Bressler, Miss Foss, Miss Pattee, Miss Kessler 
Parson's Farewell. .Mr. Deering, Mr. Hall, Miss Hamler, Miss 

Himes 
Flamborough Sword Dance. .Mr. William E. Lewis, Swordmaster; 
Mr. Foultz, Mr. Gress, Mr. Wyant, Mr. Wilde, Mr. 
Griffiths, Mr. Barnhart, Mr. Sligh 
Peas Cods. .Mr. Wyant, Mr. Houston, Mr. Deering, Mr, Blackman, 
Mr. Gress, Miss Shoemaker, Miss Alexander, Miss 
Parker, Miss Sandles, Miss Bair 

Quaker Song — By Sidney Batchller 

Children from the Observation School 
Trained by Laura B. Staley 
Committee, Mrs. Lewis and Mrs. Smith 

Girls — Grace Frye, Mary Kobb, Louise Musser, Eugenia Gravatt, 
Pauline Zook, Margaret Resides, Alma Neidigh, Lora Long, 
Leota Scott, Janet Long, Lucille Mease, Marjorie Frizzell, 
Adelaide Rapeer, Sarah Mallory, Mary Houser, Marie 
Martin 

8 



Boys — Gordon Webner, Spiegel Dotterer, Richard Lehman, James 
McCafferty, Herbert Kock, Billie Holmes, Daniel Musser, 
John Thompson, Wilbur Resides, Richard Bottorf, Calvin 
Shawley, Adrian Murtorff, Edgar Lonberger, Mahlon Robb, 
William Jones, Kenneth Bottorf, Charles Williams, Russell 
Musser 

English Song "A Round" 

By Children of the Observation School 
Trained by Laura B. Staley 
Committee, Mrs. Lewis and Mrs. Smith 

English Song "Boating Song" 

By Children of the Observation School 
Trained by Laura B. Staley 
Committee, Mrs. Lewis and Mrs. Smith 

Song "Ruben, Ruben" 

By Adaline and John Holmes 

English Dances "A Hunting We Will Go" 

By Children of the Observation School 

Girls — Helen Musser, Corinne Holter, Marguerite Hoy, Veda 

Shawley, Helen Markley, Florence Garme, Caroline Kess- 

inger, Adene Resides, Mary Hoy, Adene Holmes, Millicent 

Shope. 

Boys — Frank Resides, Daniel Lonberger, Ned Willard, John 

Holmes, Richard Ewing, Sidney Grieb. Claud Kock. 
The scene represents a village green at some little village outside of 
Philadelphia in the olden time. There is an old Maypole in the 
center of the stage. There is a gathering of men and girls on 
the green. 
Doris. Come, girls, too long have we been ruled over by the dour-faced 
Quakers. No pleasures, no dancing, only plain dresses, going to 
meeting, and long faces. 
Margery. And here it is May Day. Look where the Maypole stands. 
Why, I declare it is beginning to bend with sorrow, it has been so 
long unused. 
John. It is a shame. I remember the day we dragged it from the forest 

and set it up there. 
William. And I recall most vividly how that same day after we had set 
it there and were just about to begin our merry-making, down came 
the dour faces and threw several of our number in jail because we 
would indulge in innocent pleasure. 
Doris. Do you remember, the solemn looking one. (She comes for- 
ward and mimics.) "Flee ye from evil pleasures that corrupt the 
flesh, lest ye be eternally damned." 
(They all laugh.) 
William. All you need, Doris, is a gray dress and one of those poke 
bonnets and of course a little religion and you would make a beau- 
tiful — Quaker. 
John. But what do you think I have just heard ? 
Margery. Can't guess. What is it? 
John. Things have fallen out ill with the zvorthy proprietor, and he 

has been called back to England. 
All. Fine, good, excellent. 

8 



Doris. Then, perhaps, again we may do as we used to do in those good 

days beyond the sea ? 
John. I am told that there is dissenton in the new government. No 

one seems to know what laws are to be enforced. I have even heard 

that a place of entertanment was opened on Market Street in 

the city. 
William. What, do you mean to say that the "lid is off" in Phila- 
delphia ? 

(John nods his head.) 
Margery. The good old days have come again. We may dance, we 

may sing. Merrie England will be born again in this new land. 
William. Let us begin it. 'Tis May Day. Come, join hands around 

the Maypole. Fiddler, strike up Sellenger's Round. 

(Fiddler begins to play.) 
William. Now ! 

They all dance around the Maypole. At the conclnson of the dance, 
they break up in couples, and breathless shout, 

Good! Good! 
Doris. Now a song. 
John — Let it be a real rollicking one! 

One of the group conies forward and sings an old English song and 
all join in the refrain. 

Applause greets the end of the song. 
Doris. Let us dance another. 
John. What shall it be ? 

Doris. O! let me see. (A slight pause) I know: "Confess." 
John. The very thing. Take your places. I'll call the figures ; Fiddler, 
strike up the tune. 

(They dance. Tozvard the end of the dance two Quakers appear 
R. and express their horror at such ungodly proceedings. As 
the dancers are about to separate at the end of the dance, one 
of the Quakers, followed closely by the other, comes dozvn in 
their midst. The group parts quickly to right and left in 
apparent consternation.) 
Quaker. Hence, ye godless creatures. Know ye not the law against 
such worldly actions ? 

(By this time they have recovered their senses and laugh at him.) 
Quaker. Do ye take advantage of the governor's absence to transform 
the liberty he gives you into such unseeming license? On the 
morrow 

John. Do you threaten us ? Too long have we been repressed in our 
innocent pleasures by such thees and thous as you. Simple pleas- 
ures are as necessary to life as long faces and holy smiles. Come, 
my neighbors, too long have we been straightened by such as these. 
Let us drive them back to their land. 

(The crozvd gathers around the Quakers and with cries of derision 
they hustle them off the stage, and the scene ends.) 

10 



Chairman, Miss Mary Christ 
THE SCOTCH-IRISH IN PENNSYLVANIA 

BY 

Professor John H. Frizzell 

CHARACTERS 

The father, a Scotch-Irishman Mr. Frizzell 

The mother, an Irish woman Miss Mclntyre 

The son, a youth of twenty Mr. Keyser 

The daughter, about the same age Miss Dewar 

Two children, boy and girl eight and eleven, respectively 

John and Adeline Holmes 

Song— "The Little Pigs Had Done It" Miss Dewar 

Trained by Mr. C. C. Robinson 
Dancers 

Dublin Jig.. Miss Korb, Miss Rich, Miss Starrett, Mr. Foultz, 
Mr. Wilde, Mr. Barnhart. 

The scene, a level spot at the edge of a wood, the night camp 
of a Scotch-Irish family in ike Cumberland valley. At the left is 
a Conestoga zvagon, in the center a campfire at ivhich the Mother 
is busy preparing supper. At the right, a large log, on the ground 
in front of zvhich is a blanket on which two children, a boy and a 
girl, are at play, building a house of sticks. A daughter assists the 
mother, bringing plates and a blanket for a table from the zvagon. 
As the curtain rises, an older son enters from the rear zvith a pail 
of water. As he sets it dozvn, the Mother speaks. 

Mother, Saw ye no yer fayther, laddie? 

Son. Nay, Mither, but I had thought he would be back e'er now. 

Mother. He was to fetch me a bundle of sticks for me fire, but no doot 
he has forgot us entirely and is awa' in search of a good place for 
the new home we are to mak' here i' th' wilderness. 

(Meanzvhile the daughter has gone off to the left and stands 
listening intenly. She speaks now.) 

Daughter. Hark ! I hear him. Is not that his whistle ? 

All listen intently. The strains of "Kathleen Mavourneen" are 
heard, at first faintly, and gradually coming nearer. 

Mother. Ay, lass, 'tis the fayther. 'Twas ever his favorite tune that. 

As she finishes speaking, the father enters carrying a bundle 
of sticks and an axe, which he lays down and speaks. 

Father. Weel, Mither, A've found the spot. Here in this noble valley 
we'll mak' oor bit home, and it's glad ye'll be afther all these weary 
miles, A'm theenkin'. 

11 



Mother. Thrue for ye Fayther. 'Tis a long way we've come. 

As mother and daughter turn to the fire, the father goes to 
the log and sits. To him the son speaks. 

Son. Father, why have we come all this way ? Ye have told me how 
we love the home-land, why then come so far away from it? 

Father. That, laddie, I canna rightly say. Yer Scotch-Irishman is an 
odd mixture of restless imagination, of day-dreaming, of visioning, 
and of shrewd canny practicality. He is ne'er content wi' things 
as they are, and least of all wi' himsel' as he is. And yet, lad, I 
would not have ye lose the characteristics of the race, but rather be 
ever proud of them. 

Son. Then tell me, what are these characteristics? 

Father. Ye must know first, then, that we Scotch-Irish, fear God and 
respect the law. Two things we hold in absolute reverence — re- 
leegion and eddeecation. These with an unquenchable love of 
leeberty, ceevil and releegious, inhere in the race. 

Son : But what will such traits as these do for us, father, in this wild 
new land? 

Father. Here, lad, as they did at home, they will teach us watchful- 
ness, self-control, thrift, caution in word and deed, and a habit of 
seeking and knowing the why of things. No race in the warld is 
so determined to knozv. We have sma' respect for a belief or a 
faith that hasna a reason or a preenciple back of it. 'Tis bred in 
the bone, ma lad. 

Son. But doesna this breed argument? 

Father. Argement? Why, lad, to argue is our sublimest joy, nex' to 
going to law, as we say, and a joy shared a like by ploughman and 
preacher, for't is our instinct that all must know. 

Son. Ay, father, but how are we going to learn ? 

(During the progress of this dialogue, the children, tiring of 
their play, have run to the fire to see what has been occupying their 
mother and sister. Presently, getting in the way of the tzvo zvomen, 
they are bundled off and run and hide in the shadows near the 
wagon.) 

Father. Away back in the sixteenth century, John Knox devised a 
system that in every parish there must be a school, and every boy 
in the school. That system is as much a part of the race as the 
love of argement. It will lead us, here, to build our schools along- 
side oor meetin'-houses, and in time, mayhap, to build colleges. 
Edeecation means the ladder to success, ma lad, and no sacrifice is 
too great to get it. 

Son. Aye, father, it is splendid, all this, but do we have these traits, 
shall we do these things? 

Father. Ay, lad, and more, and we'll put them to use for the welfare 
of oor own kind and the upbuilding of this new land. We have 
ever led in the cause of leeberty and independence, and have stood 

12 



ever for the right and for equal rights to all men. We must never 
fail oor new country, lad, be it in peace or in w^ar. 

As the father ceases, a whip-poor-will call is heard. All start 
and listen. Again it is heard, and the children, frightened, run in 
to the mother, crying out: 

Children. Mother, mother, what is it? 

Mother (gathering the children in her arms). Be not af eared, ma wee 
dearies, 'tis but Padraic the Piper piping for the gentle folk to 
come and dance. 

Children. But, mother, is Padraic over here in this new land, too? 

Mother, Ay, Padraic is everywhere the Irish heart goes, and always 
he pipes for the gentle people. 

Children. Oh, mother, do tell us about him again. 

Mother. Come, then, here where the fayther sits, and hearken. (Seats 
herself beside the father, the children at her knees looking intently 
up into her face. Again the whip-poor-tmll calls, tzvice.) Once 
upon a time everybody in Ireland was hungry, for there was neither 
stir-about for the childther, nor praties for the elders, nor meal 
in the bin. No one knew what to do, and so finally Padraic the 
Piper made up his mind to play for the gentle people to dance, and 
to ask the granting of a wish as his pay. So he took his pipe — 

Children. But you didn't tell us where he got his pipe, mother. 

Mother. Och! I forgot that did I no? Well, he cut a reed, not a 
common reed, ye mind, but one that grew in the loch, by the side 
of a gentle hill, where the wind o' the moorland could toss it by 
day, and the feet o' the gentle people brush it o'nights, and where 
the throstle sang its sweetest. An' he cut it wi' clean hands and 
happy thoughts, while the dew still clung to it, and hung it to dthry 
where it could catch the laughter o' little children. And then — 

Children. And then he played on it for the fairies, didn't he, mother? 

Mother. Ay, afther it was dthry, though. Then he made it into a pipe 
and wan night he went out and piped for the gentle people, and 
when they came he told his wish — stir-about a-plenty for the chil- 
ther, and potatoes and meal in the bin, and then he wint away an' 
piped for them. 

Children. And didn't he ever come back, mother? 

Mother. Nay, for always the fairy folk kept him as their own, and 
when at night ye hear him piping, ye may know that he is about 
his work of love and sacrifice. 

In the momentary silence that, follows, the call is heard again. 

Father (to the son). An' there, ma lad, ye have th' ither side of it — 
the pathos, th' sentiment o' the race. 

Son. Ay, father, I was wondthering about that. I was wondthering if 
the solemn things ye've been telling me were all, — if there were no 
fun, no music, no poetry, no sentiment. 

13 



Father. Aluch, lad, in this warld is too deep for words, and we do 
not always wear oor hearts on oor sleeves. But nowhere will ye 
find warmer hearts, or truer friends or deeper lovers. Ay, lad, the 
sentiment, tho' seldom on the lips, is always there, deep down, ready 
at the right touch to show itself forth in blood or life as freely 
as ever life or blood were offered. 

Daughter. But did ye never dance, father ? 

Father. D'ye hear the lass, mither? Did we never dance? Ay, that 
we did an' often. Can ye no a'most hear the fiddle, mither ? Hark ! 
D'ye no hear it? And look — yonder there, can ye no sec the lads 
an' lassies as they danced upon the green? 

As he speaks, first the fiddle sounds, and tJien the dancers enter 

from behind tJie zvagon, and dance before tJie fire 

As the dance ends and the dancers go out, the family gaze 

intently after them a moment, then all rub their eyes, and look at 
one another in amazement. 

Father. Did ye see them, mither, or was I dreaming? 

Mother (rising with practical houscivifcly manner and tone). Och, 
'twas dhreamin' ye were, sure. ,. .but. .. .1 thought I saw them 
mesilf . . . . Ochone! But come now, all of ye, for the supper is 
near cold, and the wee dears are near noodin'. 

As all go tozuard the blanket ivhere supper is laid, the father 
halting as if still in a dream, the curtain falls. 



14 



Chairman, Mrs. Wilde 
PENNSYLVANIA GERMANS 

BY 

Professor William S. Dye, Jr. 

CHARACTERS 

Oswald Mr. Bartges 

Gretchen Miss Thoman 

Jacob, the hired man Mr. White 

Heinrich Mr. Yetter 

Hans Mr. Skweir 

Mina Miss Tennant 

Hilda Miss Greene 

Two Songs — Die Lorelei, Trene Liebe German Chorus 

Trained by Harry T. Collings 

The scene represents the outside of a Pennsylvania German 
home in Lancaster or Berks or any other Pennsylvania German 
community. In the center of the stage is a large cauldron zvith a 
fire burning under it and a stirring apparatus fixed on the top. 
Several buckets are on the stage and a pile of large bowls for paring 
apples are stacked in a corner. In another corner are several bas- 
kets full of apples. At the opening of the scene the old farmer 
enters from the rght and at Jiis call his wife enters from the left. 
Oswald. Gretchen! Gretchen! Wife! Wife! I say, wife! 
Gretchen. (Enters L.) Coming, coming. 

Oswald. Good wife, is all prepared ? The neghbors will be here shortly. 
I hope that our merry-making will indeed be joyous. 

Gretchen. All is ready : the cider boiled all of yesterday ; the apples 
have been stacked over there ; and here are the spices and the sugar. 

Oswald. (Calls off R.) Jacob ! Hurry, hurry, some wood for the fire, 
quick. If we don't the cider will be getting cold already. It must 
be boiling fast when the people come. 

(As the hired men come in with wood and put it on the fire 
under the pot in the center, a German folk song is heard in the 
distance. At first the zvords are not audible, only the murmur of 
the song. Gradually it comes nearer, so that the end of the first 
stanza can be heard as a whisper. The second stanza becomes 
louder, and at the middle of the third stanza the group enters. In 
the meantime, the man and his wife and the hired man are bustling 
around getting things ready. At the first sound of the music the 
man says) : 
Oswald. Hurry, hurry ; they are coming. Have you knives and bowls? 
Is the stirrer ready? Keep the pot boiling. 

(At the conclusion of the song, after the entrance of the guests, 
there is a general zvelcoming on the part of the host and hostess and 
the hired man.) 

15 



Oswald. Come b'oys, come girls ! Let us get to work. And mind not 
too much time is to be wasted on the sparking. 

(By this time they have arranged themselves in groups around 
the stage and arc busy paring apples.) 

Heinrich (on the R.) ( to a girl ivho sits near him). Farmer Oswald 
does bustle around as though his presence were needed everywhere. 

Mina. I'm sure that his bark is much worse than his bite. 

Heinrich. Let us call him over? 

Mina. Goodman Oswald, come here and show us one of the old games 

you used to play when you sparked your f rau at Schnitzen Bees. 
Oswald. No! No! I must keep the rest of you busy. After while I'll 

show you some tricks. 
Hans (on the L.) Come, Goodman (to the host). Come and decide 

who is Hilda's love. 

Oszvald comes over to the center and Hilda is brought out to 

the front. 
Hans. Now to find her true love. Have you the apple pared ? 
Hilda. Yes ! see, here it is. 
Hans. Now, it is around your head three times and over your left 

shoulder, and the letter that the paring makes is your love's initial. 

Now, once, twice, three times and away it goes. 

(Hilda has twirled the paring around her head three times and 
throws it over her shoidder. All crozvd around zvhen the host 
bustles up.) 
Oswald. Out of the way, out of the way till I decide. 

(They separate right and left and he stoops over the paring and 
after scratching his head for azvhile, he says) : 

Oswald. It's an A. 

Girls and men. Adolph! Adolph! 

(The men get hold of one of their number and hustle him for- 
ward, slapping him on the back, zvhile Hilda runs back among the 
girls and hides her face.) 

Oswald (interposing). Come, now, neighbors, enough, enough. It is 
time now to put the schnits in the pot. 

(Tzvo men go among the group that Jias again seated itself, and, 
with buckets, gather up the sliced apples and drop them in the kettle 
which one of the men has been stirring constantly during the whole 
scene.) 

Oswald (after the apples have been put in the kettle). Now, folks, the 
good wife has a real spread for you. Let us go in and eat. 

Heinrich. Let us have a song first. 

Oswald. Good! A song, a song. 

(They gather around the center and sing another German folk 
song, and go out singing it. The stage is darkened and the scene 
ends.) 

16 



Chairman, Mr. Blackman 
THE SLAVS IN PENNSYLVANIA 

BY 

Professor William S. Dye, Jr. 

CHARACTERS 

Man Mr. Stick 

Woman Miss Genevieve 

Child Dorothy Johnson 

Employer Jay Gould 

Dancers.. Mr. Sligh, Mr. Wilde, Miss Foss, Miss Himes 

The Polish episode is to be produced in silhouette pantomine. It 
is to represent (1) The pitiful condition of these later sons of Penn- 
sylvania, before they came to this fair commonwealth; (2) their coming 
to America; (3) their work, and (4) their aspirations. 

This episode is to be preceded by a Polish dance indicative of the 
situation of the Pole before the three nations who stole his inheritance 
had completely trampled him under foot. 



17 



THE PROLOGUE TO THE LAST EPISODE 

BY 

Professor Wm. Day Crockett 
Columbia, the Spirit of Pennsylvania Mrs. Gardiner 



THE SPIRIT OF PENNSYLVANIA 

Here stood the forest primeval. O'er well-wooded hills and thro' 

valleys, 
Alountain-sides covered with pines, and vales half-hidden in shadows, 
From the swish of the stream on the east, to the west where the River 
Allegheny mingles its waters with those of another 
Stream — of a name not befitting the needs of hexameter measures — 
And together they form the Ohio — once roamed the Red-Man. 
Under the sheltering boughs of the chestnut, built he his wigwam. 
Skillful, and swift as the roe-buck when startled, he hunted the red-deer. 
And at night, when the chase of the day was all ended, in silence 
Sat he by the light of his camp-fire. Brooding, he sat ; 
Or may be, flushed with joy of the killing, he told of his powers 
In the hunt, and in accents proud, of the feats of his fathers. 
Simple the life that he lived with his squaw. And his little papooses 
Grew into sturdy and boisterous boyhood. Often they feasted 
On the flesh of the quail, and the maize that was grown by the women ; 
And they drank, these sons of the forest, the waters that bubbled 
From beneath the rocks — gracious gift of God, the All-Father. 

But gone is the forest primeval. Gone, too, are the sons of the forest ! 
Into the past they have melted! Room have they made for the Pale 

Face! 
Felled are the pines and the chestnuts ! And lo ! from under the furrows 
Plowed by the hands of the sons of the White-Man, ever spring the 

bounteous 
Harvest now needed to nourish and strengthen the bone and the sinew 
Of a race that's yet in the making. Here, here in the Western 
\Yorld — by the banks of the Susquehanna, where flows the Delaware, 
On the side of the Alleghenies, amid the smoke of the cities — 
There is being welded together, together is welded a people, 
Who, with others of sister Commonwealth, may be destined 
Thro' their love and devotion to freedom, to further the causes — 
Causes, which, in their solving, will further the Cause of Man-kind! 

"Hearken!" I said to my peoples — 
To the sturdy son of the Quaker, 
To the blue-eyed son of the Swede ; 
To the canny chiel of the Scotsman, 
And the rollicking son of Erin, 
To the Mennonite and the Dunkard, 
To my Pennsylvania Dutchman, 
To the Pole who burrows my mountains, 
To the son who builds my railways, 
Latest comer from the Old World — 

18 



"Hearken !" spoke I to my peoples, 
"Let us build us a mighty College 
Wherein shall be taught to our children 
All the arts and all the learning — 
From the reading Greek and Latin, 
From the testing drugs and metals. 
From the making plans for' bridges. 
From the digging mines for copper, 
From the tilling of the free-soil, 
And the feeding of the chickens, 
To the beating-up of egg-nog 
And the millin'ry of the Co-Ed ! 

A melting-pot let us make us 
Wherein shall be blended our children — 
Child of Quaker, Dutchman, Scotsman, 

Irish, Welshman, Pole and Swede! 
And for four years shall they study, 
All the arts and all the learning, 
From the reading French and German, 
From the forming plans for railways, 
From the mining of the silver, 
From the planting of the orchard. 
And the milking of the moolies. 
To the dancing on the green-sward. 

And the swapping hearts for keeps ! 

So we built us here a College, 

Old Penn State ! dear Old Penn State ! 
Home of learning, home of Knowledge, 

Home to be — for all that's great ! 
And we built us here a College 
For the furtherance of knowledge. 
For the lasting cultivation 
In the State and in the Nation 

Of the truth — that alone is great! 



19 



EPISODl VI 



Chairman, Mrs. Davis 
PENN STATE TODAY 

BY 

Professor William S. Dye, Jr. 

CHARACTERS 

Yank Mr. Hill 

Quaker Mr. Cannon 

Swede Mr. Swanson 

The Guinea Mr. Neal 

Irish Mr. O'Toole 

Dutch Mr. Skweir 

Six maidens. .Miss Munyon, Miss Shell, Miss Muir, Miss Taylor, Miss 

Thompson, Miss Magee. 
Columbia Mrs. Frank Gardner 

The scene is the front campus after the conclusion of the class 
day exercises of the class of ig — . The characters zvear white 
trousers and shirts, and are without coats. The six girls zvho enter 
later are attired in fluffy summer dresses. A song is heard zvith- 
out, "Here's to good old State, drink her doivn, etc.," and the six 
men come running on. 

Dutch. Well, boys, thank goodness, I'm educated. 

Irish. Sure, Dutch, I suppose you do have about as much as a Sous 
Beslehem Dutchman will hold. Now, as for me, I expect to 
study all the rest of my life. (They laugh at him; he continues 
in an oratorical manner.) I expect to study sewers and railroads 
while there's one spot on the face of the earth untouched by the 
inherent genius of me race, or, (a pause) while there is one 
Dutchman left to bluff. 

Swede. There you hit, Irish, old boy. Bluffing is the long suit of 
your race. 

Irish. Let me at him. Let me at him. (They restrain him, all 
laughing.) 

Swede. Now, if you want to know what course you ought to have 
studied in order to get the most out of life, it's agriculture. 

The Guinea. Pigs and cows ! Fertilizers and foolishness ! 

Swede. Now see here, you know as well as I do that for the scientific 
agriculturists — 

20 



Guinea. Rats, rats, cut the farmers' instruction train stuff and go bag 
your head. When it comes to the real practical and worth while 
course in this college, you have to give it to the me that it is min- 
ing. Just look what we have done — 

Irish. Of, go on wi ye, ye guinea. What have you done? Driven a 
blind mule under the ground and picked some slate above ground, 
and made the Dean and the rest of them think that you know hard 
coal from soft. What are all the miners but a bunch of unculti- 
vated, wild, heathen foreigners? 

Quaker. And what are the rest of you, I'd like to know? There's 
Dutch, with the smell of German beer still sticking to him ; and 
the Big Swede with his yellow hair and blue eyes, and clumsy 
ways ; the guinea who looks as if he just landed, and yourself with 
a brogue as thick as sour cream. Every last one of you won't 
have to strain your eyes to look back and see the first settler of 
your family. 

Dutch (zi'ho is getting angry). And how about yourself when it comes 
to that? 

(They all pat the Dutchman on the back, and yell, "Pine. 
Nobly spoken, old man.") 

Yank (who talks with broad a's and soft r's). Now if your fathers 
had come over in the Mayflower, and landed on Plymouth Rock — 

Irish. Plymouth Rock? What is it, a chicken or a piece of Squash 
Pie? Gwan wid ye. Sure, ye confounded Yanks think it's a mort- 
gage ye have on the land, because a bunch crazy English came over 
in an old scow with pigs quartered on the deck and an armchair on 
every mast, and an old grandfather's clock for a compass. Why 
didn't ye go to one of your down East colleges ? Hey, answer me 
that? 

Dutch. Well, you see he knew that when it comes to a place where 
you get the real thing in education, Penn State cannot be beat. 

Yank. Now, boys, you know — 

Guinea. Oh, ring off. New England does not give the people what 
they want. They give them what in their high and mighty judg- 
ment, is thought to be best. 

Swede. Here we have an institution that has grown from the wants 
of the people, and from their needs. I remember the tales my 
grand-dad told me of how his old grand-dad came here when this 
whole place was only a forest, and the Indian roamed the valley. 
They used mighty primitive ploughs then and sowed and reaped 
with one hand constantly on their firelocks. My people wanted 
agriculture and this institution gives it to us. 

Quaker. I, too, have come straight from those old farmers who to 
avoid persecution, planned and built the city of Philadelphia. 

Yank. Yes, and said thee and thou, and wore — 

21 



Quaker. Hold on there Yank. They loved peace, too, but since then, 
we've learned to use our firsts — (threatens him.) 

(The others step in to prevent the fight, calling, "Don't hurt 
the poor boy!") 

Irish. Sure, don't stop it. It's meself that's longing to see a real 
Donneybrook Fair, the same as me Grandsire has told me of. 

Swede. No, no, it is peace we're after. Let him alone, Bill ; Pilgrims 
and the like are nothing compared with our own people. 

Guinea. Right, such high flown ideas as Yank has sit strangely on 
me. My own poor father and mother never had the chance to go 
to college as did his They came here, and father worked in the 
mines, while mother took care of us kids. Both wore their 
knuckles to the bone and bent their backs almost double because 
they wanted me to go to college. I can see them now. They did 
not have the money even to come here to this celebration, nor 
would they come, because they feel that they do not know enough. 
I have seen them sufifer and hundreds of others, and that is why 
I studied mining, hoping that some day I could help make the 
way of those who toil under the ground better. 

Swede. Each of our people, old man, had some special reason for 
coming to this land, and it is strange how each of us has followed 
the bent of his race: Irish came to learn the way to open up new 
roads ; Dutch to learn chemistry, so that he might brew better 
beer, I suppose ; Bill, to improve himself in liberal arts ; the Guinea 
to learn the art of mines, and I to learn that of agriculture. All 
of us, however, have learned much more, for we have come to ap- 
preciate what true liberty means. 

Irish. It was liberty our fathers sought : the liberty to work and the 
liberty to fight. Sure we all have it now and whatever views of 
tolerance and broadmindedness we have came from this college of 
the State of Pennsylvania. 

Dutch. Boys, the girls will be waiting for us. But before we part, 
let us sing a couple of songs of old State. 

(They sing tzvo songs, "Where, oh ivhere are the measlcy 
Freshmen?" etc., and "Where the crest of Old Mt. Nittany?" etc. 
At the end of the second of these, six girls, in fluffy dresses of the 
time, enter.) 

1. Girl. Here they are, girls. 

2. Girl. (Goes up to Dutch) See here, Dutch, did you think we came 

up here just to listen to you fellows try to sing? 

3. Girl. (To the Sivede) I think it's a mean shame, so I do. 
1. Girl. (To Irish) I've been just passing away for a dance. 

22 



Irish. Sure, then, darlint, it's meself that would be doing an injustice 
to me race if I refused to shake a foot when a lady offered to let 
me hold her hand. Come on, boys. 

Dutch. Take your partners. 

(They take partners and dance a Virginia Reel.) 

At the last figure of the reel, the couples separate R. and L. 
A pause for a fezv seconds ensues, and then Freedom appears at the 
back of the stage and starts forward. Immediately the sounds of 
"America," sung by voices on all sides, is heard. When she reaches 
the center of the stage, from the five entrances the various groups 
that have taken part in the earlier episodes enter until the zvhole 
stage is filled up, all singing "America." 



Thi End. 



23 



0®«s ¥@M Wm&k T@ @!i P#iiii Sial® 



(Tune: "On the Road to Mandalay.") 



Words by William D, Crockett 



I 



Near the foot of old Mount Nitt'ny, nestled fair among the hills, 
Stands our Alma Mater dearest — and my heart with rapture thrills, 
For from out the College steeple this the note the old bell trills, 
"Come you back, you College student ; come you back to Old Penn State ! 

Come you back to Old Penn State, 

And its mem'ries hoar and great! 
Can't you see the boys a-marching up the road to Old Penn State ? 

Oh ! the road to Old Penn State, 

Where we early toiled and late ! 
And the boys they come a-marching up the road to Old Penn State ! 

II. 

Her Campus it is green once more, and the birds they blithely sing; 
And memories of other days open with abandon fling 
My heart of hearts, for College dear and Campus fair the summons ring, 
"Come you back, you care-worn graduate, come you back to Old Penn 
State ! 

Come you back to Old Penn State, 

And its mem'ries hoar and great ! 
Can't you hear the boys a-marching up the road to Old Penn State? 

Oh ! the road to Old Penn State, 

Where we early toiled and late ! 
And the boys they come a-marching up the road to Old Penn State!" 

III. 

"Come you back from North- and South-Land, come you from the East 

and West! 
Come you from the marts of business, and the homes of well earned rest. 
To of Campuses the fairest and of Colleges the BEST ! 
Come you back, you bearded 'lumnus ; come you back to Old Penn State ! 

Come you back to Old Penn State, 

And its mem'ries hoar and great! 
Can't you see the boys a-marching up the road to Old Penn State? 

Come you back to Old Penn State, 

Where we early toiled and late! 
And rally round your Mother dear, the College fair of Old Penn 
State!" 

24 



Chairman of the Pageant President Edwin Erle Sparks 

Master of the Pageant Mary Wood Hinman 

Chairman of the Program William S. Dye, Jr. 

Secretary of the Pageant Samuel Kenton Hostetter 

Treasurer of the Pageant David Knox Peet 

Business Manager Edwin Raymond Smith 

Posters designed by Mr. Harry W. Jacobs. 

Color scheme suggested by Richard Ernesti. 

Costumes designed and executed under the direction of Miss 
BiGELOW and Miss Giesecke and Miss Kemmerer. 

Lighting, Makeup and Coaching by Mr. Arthur Deering, assisted 
by Miss Rich. 

Mistress of the Robes, Miss Charlotte Foss, assisted by Miss 
Alexander, 

Pubhcity Man, Thomas S. Sligh, 

Property Men, Mr. Foultz and Mr. Gress. 

Stage Manager, Mr. Griffiths. 

Chairman of Music, Miss Wertz, 

Musical Director. Mr. R. O'Brien. 



25 



LIBRARY OF CON-P-cc 

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